King of All I Survey
Chapter 84: A Punch in the Face or a Cold Beer?

Chapter 84: A Punch in the Face or a Cold Beer?

As soon as I got back to the Status Room, Joe flagged a display of the interior of Maribel’s house in Guatemala. It was being used to keep Rafael and his right-hand man Miguel out of sight and under direct observation in the aftermath of the turmoil of his renouncing of the drug-trafficking organization that he had built. Luis and Manny, two of our paramilitary operatives were also staying there, to guard Maribel and to control Rafael. While Rafael was undergoing memory-imprint therapy under our AI’s guidance, the sessions were limited and, so far, too few to make real changes to his character and basic temperament. In Maribel’s absence, that was becoming abundantly clear as I watched the video feed Joe indicated.

Rafael with Miguel posturing at his side, were facing Luis and apparently in the middle of a heated argument. Manny stood off to one side, seeming ready to jump in if things went downhill.

Rafael threw a stack of photographs at Luis. They fluttered through the air and fell to the floor. "I don’t want photos! If you want me to identify these men, bring me to them, or bring them to me! Then, I’ll give you their names if I know them." His voice dropped into a low growl, "If I don’t know them, I can make them tell me everything... They dared attack me! And Maribel! Now, you treat them like guests, hiding them away somewhere! Let me at them! They need to be examples for anyone else who might think I’m weak because I’ve changed directions!"

"I can’t do that," Luis said calmly. "Please, Mr. Camal de Leon, pick up the pictures and tell me if you recognize any of these men." Luis stood in front of the blustering Rafael. He was stroking his chin with his left hand while his right was half-raised, just above his waist. As if he was resting it on his hip, though it hovered just off his body. It looked like a relaxed, casual pose, but the left hand was up for defense, in position and ready to block any sudden punches Rafael might throw at his head. His right hand, while also ready to block body attacks, was in a position to strike, the elbow bent and slightly back. From here, he could strike quickly and with power if Rafael stepped forward to attack.

Rafael was veteran of many street fights as he had risen up through the ranks of the gangs in Guatemala, he was a ruthless killer and accustomed to violence. Except for the few too stupid or crazy to fear anything, every member of his former criminal organization feared him and his temper. Luis, though, was highly trained in hand-to-hand combat using memory implant training to make him an expert in all the most effective military personal combat and martial arts techniques from around the world. He was also trained to de-escalate conflicts and avoid violence whenever possible.

I watched the scene unfolding. Miguel was slowly edging around to Luis’s right side, ready to attack from a different angle the second Rafael or Luis moved to attack. He and Rafael had clearly fought together before. Manny, trained as well as Luis, had appeared to be staying out of the ’discussion,’ but quietly moved into position to behind Rafael and Miguel, using eye movements to indicate to Luis which attacker he would engage first if it came to that.

Luis caught the signal and Miguel’s positioning while appearing to keep his gaze on Rafael. He didn’t lock eyes with Rafael to challenge him directly, but glanced toward the photos on the floor, at Rafael’s face, while keeping a calm, disappointed expression on his face. "Look," Luis continued, "regardless of what either us wants, this is what Maribel has asked. I, for one, don’t want to explain to her why we’re all bruised up and her furniture is broken when she comes back from her business in Peru. How about we pick up the photos and sit down, like the civilized men Maribel thinks we are, and figure out who these guys are?" He let his eyes drift to Manny, reminding Rafael and Miguel that the other solidly built guard was standing ready behind them. "Manny, do we have some Gallos in the refrigerator? Let’s all sit down and have a beer and do our best to act like guests in Maribel’s house. What do you say, Miguel? Want a beer? Rafael?"

For a second, Rafael continued to stare with violent intent. Then his face shifted. Suddenly he was smiling, his posture relaxed. It was really an amazing and total transition. All hint of aggression vanished in an instant, replaced by a warm, friendly smile that looked and felt entirely genuine. It was almost as if someone had flipped a switch and turned on a light, the transition from darkness to light was so sudden and profound.

Watching on the display screen, I think that transition scared me more than anything else.

"A cold beer sounds like a good idea for us hot heads, eh, Miguel?" Rafael looked over at his companion affably. Miguel relaxed, the tension draining from him. He had apparently seen Rafael flip that switch before and knew that violence was no longer imminent.

"Yeah, man a beer would be good!" Miguel agreed. Miguel stooped to gather the photos as Luis and Rafael moved toward the table. Manny headed for the refrigerator to grab the beers.

"Yikes, that was a close one," I said to Joe back at headquarters.

"Closer than you think," Joe replied.

"But Luis and Manny would have won... if it came to a fight, though, right?" I asked.

"Probably," Joe answered, "but experienced streetfighters, especially those who have a track record of winning, can be dangerous. They usually start with some deceptive or sneak attack and then never give the opponent a chance to recover from the initial unbalancing. They’ll often use that initial momentum to continue a swarming, overwhelming attack until the opponent is finished... in Rafael’s case, probably long after the opponent is finished. I suspect he... loses himself in the rage and violence. With that kind of attacker against a highly skilled and trained opponent like Luis, it comes down to whether Rafael can get his first attack in by deception or trickery. Probably Luis would not allow himself to be fooled, but it can be hard to predict, especially if Luis is committed to not striking first."

I looked back at the screen, Luis and Rafael were seated at the table their chairs pulled close together as Luis presented the photos of the RPG wielding attackers and the fake police men one by one. Rafael studied each one carefully. He shook his head, "No. I don’t know him." He slid the first photo over to Miguel, "What about you, Miguel? Ever seen this guy before?"

Miguel looked at the picture, shaking his head, "Nope."

The process continued with Rafael intently studying each photo, no doubt committing them to memory and planning what he’d do if he did ever see these men again.

I sighed and leaned back, the adaptive chair accommodating my movement and remolding itself around me. "Are they going to be ok there?" I asked Joe, worried that a fight might break out before Maribel returned. It was going to be a day before she went back, maybe longer, if I stuck to the original plan.

"Yes, I believe so," Joe assured me, "It looks like Rafael has decided not to engage Luis in a direct altercation. I will have Manny and Luis take shifts awake overnight, though. I’m not sure that Rafael could resist if they were both asleep and helpless."

"Are you sure he can be fixed with imprint therapy?" I asked.

"Yes, if we had him in isolation for prolonged treatment. With periodic treatments and releasing him into an uncontrolled environment without behavior modifying influences, incidents like this undermine the therapy we’re attempting. I’m not sure our current approach will work."

"Oh, that’s great! If he’s still like that and we make him President of the entire country..."

"Yes," Joe agreed, "that would be a further detriment to his progress."

"OK, then we need to put him into an extended, isolated therapy. He’ll have to disappear from the public eye for a while. Let’s talk about it with Maribel, Mom, and Dad after the Arroyo meeting tonight."

"Acknowledged," came Joe usual reply.

"Now, let’s go over the links between the cell phone guys in the warehouse meeting and the United States."